Thursday, October 7, 2010

Gladys Carmagnola

JAILS

This ancient domestic ritualof covering the bread well,of seeing there is a tablecloth for the tableand that it doesn't lack salt,my hands in such assiduous escapewithout wanting nor thinkingit's already almost an irremediable defectthat I can't succeed in curing. In the same way, I carry in my syllablesthat someone sometime will write,here, in my lukewarm fingertipsquick to caressor to extend in a resounding slap in the facethat I can't manage to restrain.